


You and Me Together, We'll Survive

by Aylwyyn228



Series: There was something taking care of me and you [4]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur meets Dutch and Hosea, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Pre-Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018), Young Arthur Morgan, Young Dutch van der Linde, Young Hosea Matthews
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:28:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23335399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aylwyyn228/pseuds/Aylwyyn228
Summary: “You know, ‘thank you’ is more usual, when someone saves you from a beatin’.”The kid stuck his chin up. “I can take a beatin’.”From the look of him, Dutch would say that was true. And maybe he was just a scrapper, but still, Dutch didn’t like to think of a kid gettin’ beat on.Or, how Arthur met Dutch and Hosea.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Dutch van der Linde, Hosea Matthews & Arthur Morgan, Hosea Matthews & Arthur Morgan & Dutch van der Linde, Hosea Matthews & Dutch van der Linde
Series: There was something taking care of me and you [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090346
Comments: 11
Kudos: 154





	You and Me Together, We'll Survive

**Author's Note:**

> So this is what I'm doing instead of writing my PhD thesis... 
> 
> Anyway, its been done a thousand times before, but here is Arthur first meeting Dutch and Hosea. 
> 
> I can't be bothered working out what is actually canon and what isn't, so apologies for anything I picked up out of fanon!
> 
> Hope you enjoy some very young Dutch, Arthur and Hosea!

Dutch was feelin’ pretty optimistic. It had been a good take. A stagecoach that’d gone off without a hitch. The passengers musta skimped on the payment, because the drivers didn’t put up a lick of fight, and in the end, the two women inside had handed over everything just to get him gone.

Hosea was still walkin’ a little stiff after the kicking he got from the law, but Dutch had bailed him out last night, and they still had a bit of drinking money left over.

So, yeah, overall Dutch was pretty goddamn pleased. He threw his arm around Hosea, and smiled as Hosea grudgingly allowed it.

They’d hauled ass out of Valentine as soon as Hosea was out. Dutch knew he was in a good mood, and when he was in a good mood, he attracted trouble like a beacon. Wouldn’t do to get picked up twice in the same town on the same day.

They’d camped out last night, the last week or so, actually, save for Hosea's night lodging with the sheriff, and Dutch was lookin’ forward to a night of drinkin’ and a warm bed.

Hosea was stiff backed at his side.

“Come on, you ain’t still sore, are you?”

Hosea’s jaw was tight. “I’m just fine.”

“Told you I was sorry. I even bailed you out, ‘steada bustin’ you.”

Hosea stopped suddenly, and shrugged his arm off. “That was the worst excuse for a goddamn apology I ever heard.”

Dutch scowled. “Yeah, well, it’s the best you’re gettin’. You wouldna got run down at all if you’da been listenin’ out for me hollerin’... and I wouldn’t be down twenty dollars for bail.”

Hosea looked at him, like that weren’t even worth the answer. He shrugged, a little, and turned to limp back towards where they'd left the horses.

“Shit,” Dutch said under his breath, and jogged to catch him up. “Don’t be like that, brother.”

“A quiet night, you said. Quiet. No trouble.”

Hosea’s cheek was beginning to swell up where he’d hit the ground, when one of the lawmen had dragged him out of the saddle by the ankle as he vaulted into it. Dutch had seen that, from where his own horse had been pawin’ restlessly at the ground, ready to high tail it.

He had the good grace to feel a little guilty.

“What you did not say, Dutch van der Linde,” Hosea stopped again, so he could jab at Dutch’s chest with a thin finger, “is that you was plannin’ on holdin’ the place up! I mighta been a bit lighter on my feet if you’d thought to share that fact.”

“Ah, you know I didn’t plan it that way.”

“I know,” Hosea said, shortly. “That much was very apparent.”

When Hosea went for the horses again, Dutch caught his arm. “Please, brother. I been dreamin’ about a bath and a warm bed. Don’t let’s spend another night out, because of spite for me. You know I had to get outta there, Hosea, but you gotta know I was always comin’ back for you.”

Hosea sighed. “I ain’t got any spite for you, Dutch, and I was never scared you weren’t comin’ back. I was scared you were gonna kick your way in with a sawed-off and take a round to the face.”

Dutch grinned.

“But I didn’t.” He tapped his forehead. “I used my head. Ain’t you proud?”

“Lord, I been waitin’ for the day.”

Dutch slapped him on the back. “Come on! I’ll get us a whiskey each, and we’ll get a room.”

Hosea sighed again, but relented. “Two rooms. I’ve seen this set to you before. You gonna bring company back, you can do it in your own damn room.”

Dutch laughed but didn’t deny it. Like he said, he was in a good mood.

They were just turning up into the saloon, one foot on the step, when Dutch heard a yell. He met Hosea’s eye, knew Hosea’s hand had dropped to his holster just the same as his had.

It was comin’ from across the street behind the general store, and they both stepped off the step like they were one mind.

Rounding the building, they came across a sight that weren’t exactly unfamiliar. Two figures scrabbling in the dirt. One was heavyset, a real bruiser. The other looked to be little more than a kid. Tall, and gangly, and scrappy.

There was no doubt that the kid was a dirty fighter. No doubt either that for all his scrappin’ he was losin’.

Dutch shared another look with Hosea. Got a shrug back.

The big guy landed one solid punch on the kid’s jaw, which split skin and left the kid dazed and sprawling in the dirt. When the big guy raised his fist again, Hosea coughed loudly. “Ok, ease up there.”

The big guy glanced over his shoulder, still holding the kid by the collar. “Whatcha want?”

“Think this bout’s over, friend.”

“Ain’t got shit to do with you.”

Hosea cocked his head. “Brawlin’s a public order offence. I’m just doin my civic duty. So why don’t you lay off?”

“Little shit made off with fifty dollars outta my bag, so no I don’t think I will.”

Dutch raised his eyebrows. “What? You had all that money in your back pocket, and you didn’t notice a goddamn beanpole comin’ up behind  
you?”

The man scowled. “He’s a tricky bastard, got me distracted, and as I said, it ain’t got shit to do with you.”

“Sorry, friend,” Dutch dropped a hand to his holster again, made sure the big guy saw him do it, “I ain’t gonna let you beat all hell outta some kid.”

“I ain’t a kid!”

Some of the dazedness had passed off the kid’s face, at the worst possible fuckin’ time. Dutch glanced at him. His lip was bleedin’. “Shut up, kid.”

Awareness was seepin’ into the big guy’s face as well. Dutch could see as his eyes flicked down to their guns. Big guy was dumb as fuck, but hopefully he weren’t crazy. At his side, he felt Hosea bend down to snag something off the ground. “I take it this is yours?”

Hosea was holdin’ out a money clip.

The man’s eyes flicked between Dutch’s hand and Hosea’s.

Hosea shook the money a little. “So you got back what’s yours, and you licked the kid good. Call it even.”

Big guy looked back down at the kid, who looked like he was gonna say something snappy, but met Dutch’s eye at the last moment and thought better of it.

“Come on, friend,” Hosea said slowly, “ain’t no honour to be had, beatin’ on some kid.”

Big guy scowled like he’d been cheated out of somethin’, but he got ungracefully to his feet and snatched the money out of Hosea’s grasp.

Dutch couldn’t help but think that for fifty dollars, they oughta’ve robbed both the bastards blind and found a hotel in the next town over.

The kid was scramblin’ to his feet as well.

Dutch held a hand out, and let the kid drag himself up. “Y’alright, kid?”

“Ain’t a kid,” the kid spat a mouthful of blood into the dust, “and I had it covered. Means you fellas just lost me fifty bucks.”

Hosea laughed from Dutch’s side. “You know, ‘thank you’ is more usual, when someone saves you from a beatin’.”

The kid stuck his chin up. “I can take a beatin’.”

From the look of him, Dutch would say that was true. Kid was tall, like he’d thought, as tall as he was, almost, and though he had that gangly foal look, Dutch could see that he was startin’ to fill out the way boys did.

Only his face was young.

Dutch wouldn’t have put him much past fourteen.

It was his face though, that convinced Dutch that the kid weren’t lying. Kid had his eyes narrowed like he could strip paint with a look, and a nose that looked like it’d been broke one too many times. With the blood on his chin, it painted a hell of a picture.

And maybe he was just a scrapper, but Dutch didn’t like to think of a kid gettin’ beat on.

“What’s your name?”

Kid scowled at him. “Jim Callahan.”

Hosea laughed again. “You lyin’ to my associate, boy?”

Kid, Callahan, or whatever, backed up and put a swagger in his step. “Your associate? What are ya? City boys?”

Dutch winked at Hosea. “First time I ever been accused of that.”

“What you fellas want, anyway?”

Dutch frowned at the kid. “What? A couple of gentlemen can’t do a good deed?”

“Ain’t nobody does somethin’ for nothin’,” the boy said, darkly.

He was bouncing between the balls of his feet, like a boxer, but Dutch’d bet he was as ready to flee as he was to throw a punch. Kid looked like a rabbit, trying to keep an eye on two different foxes.

He flicked his chin up again. “I ain’t gettin’ on my knees for ya.”

“Jesus, kid!”

Even Hosea looked surprised. He held his hands up. “Ain’t nothing like that, kid, I swear. Just don’t like to see a mismatched fight, is all.”

“Leave it, Hosea.” Dutch could recognise a losin’ battle when he saw one. He nodded his chin at the kid. “Go on, get outta here if you wanna. Try not to get onto that big bastard again.”

The kid scanned him up and down once, before skirtin’ around the side of the building and away.

Dutch thought he heard him mutter ‘thanks, old man’ under his breath as he left, and chose to believe that he was talkin’ to Hosea, even though he knew that everyone was old when you were fourteen damn years old.

“Jesus,” he said again, and clapped Hosea on the back, “well, it's never dull in this town.”

Hosea was lookin’ after the boy, where he disappeared around the side of the building. Dutch could see that he was thinking. Hosea always got that same look about him when he was thinking, but didn’t often like to share it until he’d got to the end of whatever was eatin’ him up.

Ah, he’d spit it out eventually.

“Come on.” He shook Hosea’s shoulder. “I got money in my pocket that’s burnin’...”

He didn’t get to the end of the sentence. Didn’t even get to the end of the thought. And in the end, he didn’t even have to check.

He looked at Hosea. “He lifted my goddamn wallet, didn’t he?”

Hosea looked at him slowly, and his face dropped. “When you helped him up.”

There was an indignant shout from the street and once again, they were running.

They’d just crossed out into the street, when a rider streaked past them. And, of course, of course it was the kid.

“That’s my fucking horse!”

A different man, also built like a fuckin’ ox, was runnin’ out of one of the stores. This kid sure could pick ‘em.

Dutch whistled for their horses.

“I got him,” he called to the man, to cover their backs in case anyone saw the three of them runnin’ and jumped to conclusions.

Course, there was no way in hell he was bringin’ that horse back, regardless.

He urged Toledo into a gallop that had people scattering out of the street. He could hear Hosea at his back.

Once they’d got out into clear country, he could see the dust the kid was kicking up, like a trail. He spurred Toledo on.

They gained on the kid quickly. He was ungraceful on a horse that weren’t his, and which wasn’t a match for Toledo or Hosea’s Persephone in any case.

“Give it up, kid!”

He didn’t know whether the kid could hear him over the wind, but he didn’t slow. He was sticking to the road, not trying to lose them across the rough, which made Dutch think that he wasn’t sure of the terrain.

Dutch whistled to Hosea, and gestured him to cut up the hillside, head the kid off on the road. Hosea peeled off, and without the constraints of the narrow road and Toledo in front of her, Persephone practically flew up the hill.

Christ, he envied Hosea that horse.

The kid’s horse was gettin’ restless, tossin’ her head, not used to being ridden so hard. That was maybe why the kid wasn’t trying for the hills. She’d throw him if she got the chance. She was already foaming underneath her saddle.

“Don’t you kill that horse for this, boy!”

The kid shouted something back but it was lost on the wind.

Dutch pulled out his lasso.

He was still a little far, but then they rounded the hill and Hosea was skidding into position on the road, pistol drawn. Not to use, Dutch was sure, but it was enough to cause the kid to falter.

Dutch saw his chance. He threw the rope, and yanked it back when it found its mark. At the same time, the kid’s horse had finally had enough and reared. The combination sent the kid sprawling back onto the road.

He went down hard, not able to catch himself for the rope around his arms. His stolen horse was stomping and snorting, and the kid was gonna get a kick to the face if he hadn’t already broken his neck.

“Shit.”

Dutch dismounted, and quickly calmed the horse.

She was snorting in irritation, but she wasn’t fiery. She was easily calmed down.

Hosea was checking on the kid already.

“He alright?”

Even as he spoke, Dutch could see he was already struggling against the rope, so he reckoned he was fine. Christ, Dutch was only twenty eight, but he missed the days when he could get thrown and just walk it off.

“Yeah,” Hosea answered, “bruised up worse than he was, but he looks to be fine.”

“Fuck you both!”

Dutch laughed. “Yeah, he’s fine.”

The kid had managed to shrug the rope off into a loose loop around his waist, and he was looking between the two of them with that same caught rabbit look. He oughta look like a cherub with that blonde hair fallin over his eyes, but the blood staining his jaw kinda ruined the image.

Dutch held out his hand. “Alright, hand it over.”

The kid lifted his chin. “Nope.”

“Don’t be a damn fool. I only want what’s mine. You can keep whatever else you picked up in that town.”

Dutch thought that was pretty generous considering everything.

The kid reached behind him, and Dutch must be gettin’ slow because he didn’t expect the kid to pull a beat up revolver.

“Woah!”

Dutch had drawn in a second. Hosea too.

“Put the gun down, boy,” Hosea said, calmly.

The kid looked like he couldn’t decide which one of them to focus on.

“Come on, kid,” Dutch said, “you ain’t gonna shoot.”

“I done it before.”

Dutch snorted. “Sure, kid.”

“I have!”

“Look,” Hosea raised his hands, pistol safely pointed at the sky, “I’m gonna put it away, alright? Then you, yeah?”

Dutch wasn’t quite confident enough to go for that play, but he did know that if this kid so much as twitched in Hosea’s direction, he was gonna put a bullet through his forehead and he didn’t even care.

The kid didn’t move.

“You willin’ to die for this, kid? Really?” Dutch asked.

There was a long pause. And the kid lowered the gun.

“Good boy.”

The kid sneered, but he fished Dutch’s wallet outta his waistband. He threw it at him. “I still call that payment for losing me my fifty bucks.”

“Jesus, kid, you still on that? Let it go.”

Dutch bent down to help the kid finally be rid of the rope.

“What’s your name really, boy?” Hosea asked.

“Arthur Morgan.”

Dutch glanced back at Hosea to see if that name was supposed to mean something to him, but he got a shake of the head.

“You fellas gonna return the favour?” Morgan asked, lifting his legs out of the loop of rope.

“No.”

“Really? You got something to hide, Dutch van der Linde?”

Dutch stopped winding his lasso and glanced at Hosea. “What?”

Morgan had a look on his face like he’d won something. “I seen your posters, van der Linde.” He looked over at Hosea. “And I guess that makes you Hosea Matthews, but you don’t look so much like your picture.”

Dutch met Hosea’s eye again, got another shrug, and Dutch could really use something a bit more than that.

“Ah, kid,” he sighed, “you really don’t know when you oughta shut up.”

Morgan still had a vaguely triumphant look on his face.

Goddamn stupid kid.

Dutch lashed out with the rope, and caught the kid on the side of the face. He went sprawling to the side, dazed just long enough for Dutch to start tying his feet together.

***

“I say we ride up north, dump him out in the mountains.”

Dutch was scraping out the bottom of his bowl.

The kid was sat across the campfire from them, lashed to a tree, far enough away that if they spoke low he wouldn’t hear them.

Dutch wasn’t taking his eyes off him though.

When they’d stopped to make camp, they’d found that he’d already slipped the rope from his wrists. Holding it so it looked like it was still tied. No doubt would’ve made short work of the one around his ankles as soon as he hit flat ground, if they hadn’t found it.

Big guy in town was right, kid was a devious son of a bitch.

So now he was lashed up good.

And Dutch wasn’t taking any chances.

Hosea was looking at him over his own meal. “There’s wolves up there. Seems crueler than just killin’ him outright.”

“Yeah, well, I ain’t keen on shootin’ a kid.” Dutch scowled. “And I’d leave him his revolver. Ain’t that cruel.”

Hosea leaned over to snag his coffee canteen. “Revolver with four shots ain’t gonna do much against a pack. And it’d be a long walk back to anywhere civilised.”

Dutch laughed humourlessly. “You call anywhere in this country civilised?”

Hosea smiled to acknowledge the point.

“He can have a couple of the cans,” Dutch continued, “and he’s got the horse.”

Hosea looked at him. “Leavin’ him the horse seems to rather defeat the purpose.”

“Look, what do you want from me? I told you, I don’t wanna kill him.”

Hosea shrugged. “Then don’t.”

Dutch dropped the bowl and leaned back on his elbows, making sure he still had eyes on the kid. “You wanna just let him go? He knows us.”

“Don’t reckon that’s any different than a couple of dozen folks across this state alone. By the time he found anyone worth tellin’ we’d be long gone.”

Dutch just looked at him.

“This ain’t just another witness pointin’ the law on their way. He knew us from the goddamn posters. He’d know us again.” He glanced at the kid again, staring off into the dark away from camp. “I don’t know, brother, seems… foolhardy to just let him wander back into town, knowin’ all that he knows.”

Hosea shrugged again. “Knows an awful lot more now than he did before you lashed him to your horse.”

“So you do think I should kill him!”

Hosea sighed. “I think you should do what you think’s best. I ain’t gonna fight you on this, Dutch. Either way. I just don’t think it’s worth this overthinkin’. Kid ain’t exactly law abiding himself.”

Dutch watched the kid for a second. “You don’t think he’d give us up?”

“I think he ain’t goin’ lookin’ for the law, and it’s always useful to have someone who owes you a favour. Particularly someone in the business.”

Dutch smiled. “You schemin’ again, brother.”

“Always.”

Dutch pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, lit it to glow bright in the gloom, and took his position back up on his elbows. “Alright, I guess. Let’s cut him loose.”

Hosea shrugged a little. “Now, I didn’t necessarily say that.”

Dutch huffed. “Now, you’re just talkin’ riddles.”

“Like I said, he could be useful.”

Dutch frowned, catching on. “Seems like more trouble than he’s worth.”

“True enough.” Hosea laughed. “Depends on what he’s worth. Listen,” Hosea leaned in close to his ear, “you bring him in and you ain’t gotta worry about him talkin’, and look at what he lifted today. Offa that guy and you, whatever else he’s got in his coat? He can bring in a hundred dollars in a day, then he’d more than pull his weight.”

“He also got caught twice in a day.”

Hosea shrugged. “He’s young. He’d learn.” He sat back. “Like I said, I’ll go with your choice, but I don’t reckon two is enough for this kinda life.”

“What do you mean?”

“Two nights ago, I was locked up and you were on your lonesome tryin’ to spring me. Two’s better to watch your back than one.”

Dutch thought about that for a minute. “If,” he said slowly, “we can trust him.”

“If we can trust him,” Hosea agreed.

Dutch went back to watchin’ the kid. It was true, havin’ another pair of eyes watchin’ their backs’d let him sleep a little easier. And hell, he liked the kid.

Enough to not want to see him dead in a ditch someplace anyway.

“Alright,” Dutch said easily, “let’s give it a shot.”

He got to his feet, scooped up one of the spare cans from his pack.

“Kid,” he called, as he strolled over.

The kid didn’t look at him. “It’s Arthur.”

“Ok, Arthur then. If I cut you loose so you can eat, are you gonna stay put?”

Arthur shrugged as much as he could with his arms stretched back so tight.

“The answer you’re lookin’ for is ‘yes, Mr van der Linde’.”

“Ain’t got nowhere else to go,” Arthur said under his breath.

Dutch guessed that was good enough.

He knelt down and unfastened his hands. Thought about it for a second and left his feet as they were. Wouldn’t slow him down for long, but it would slow him down.

He watched as Arthur pulled his hands into his lap, almost like he wanted to curl them around himself.

Dutch felt at least a little guilty. Kid was a kid after all.

He held out the can, and when Arthur took it, he fished out a fork from his pocket. He held that up in the air when Arthur tried to take it too.

“You stab me with this, I’m gonna break all of your fingers.”

“Sure.”

Dutch let him have it.

Arthur dove into his meal like he thought Dutch was goin’ to snatch it off him again. Dutch gave him a couple of minutes to settle, so he’d have his full attention.

“Me and my associate have been talking-”

“‘Bout how you’re gonna kill me?” Arthur said, around a mouthful. He swallowed, hard, without chewing. “Or bout what you’re gonna do with me first?”

“Jesus, kid.”

Arthur shrugged, still shovelling as much food into his mouth as he could.

“Look, what I was gonna ask is if you might be open to a business proposition?”

That got Arthur to look up. “Ride with you?”

“There’d be good money in it.”

“There’d likely be a noose at the end of it.”

Dutch laughed. “Thought you’d already killed a man?”

Arthur stopped, all of a sudden, eyes narrowed again. “I said I shot a man, didn’t stick around to find out if he was dead.”

“Fair enough.” Dutch smiled, but it didn’t do a thing to take the suspicion off of Arthur’s face. “Listen, kid, I ain’t gonna hurt you whatever, but I ain’t gonna let you bring all hell down on us either.”

Arthur scowled. “Ain’t no rat.”

“Good. So if I untie you, I’m not gonna spend all night watchin’ my back?”

Arthur looked at him. Still that frightened rabbit look.

“No,” he said eventually.

“Good, cos I really ain’t got the stamina.” Dutch leaned down and dragged his knife through the rope lashing his ankles. He sat back on his haunches. “If you’re still here in the mornin’, you get the gun back.”

Arthur nodded.

“Good.”

Dutch pushed himself to his feet and returned to where Hosea was stretched out by the fire, watching them. “Hope you’re right,” he said, under his breath.

***

Dutch woke early, with the sun, aching once again with the hard ground.

Christ, it was a wonder he’d never considered when he’d been young, but at some point you hit an age when some damn thing ached all the time. And he never thought it’d be when he was twenty goddamn eight!

He sat up, scanned over the camp.

Hosea was still sleeping, same as always, and the kid… wasn’t in fucking camp. Horse was gone too.

Goddamn.

Dutch felt underneath the jacket he’d wadded up as a pillow, and found the revolver was gone.

How the hell had the kid…?

Whatever. He didn’t suppose it mattered. Kid hadn’t knifed them in their sleep. He’d half expected to wake up and find him gone. But he’d kinda got used to the idea of havin’ him around.

He grabbed the balled up jacket and threw it at Hosea. He heard him groan against waking.

“Hosea? Kid lit out. We better move.”

Hosea groaned again, and Dutch pushed himself up, kicked at Hosea’s foot. “Come on, brother. Time we were gone.”

That seemed to get Hosea moving and Dutch leant to gather up his bed.

Hosea was muttering something under his breath. Complaints, Dutch guessed. Hosea had always resented the morning light.

Dutch shoved the remainder of his things in his pack and felt a sudden prickle up his spine.

His hand dropped to his holster.

“Hosea, we-”

He heard the step on the ground.

He span, gun drawn.

Too late.

Hosea was on his knees, by the fire, hands held away from himself.

There was a man behind him, shotgun leveled at the back of his head. Two more were striding out from the trees, carbines in hand.

“Dutch van der Linde?” The man with the shotgun said. “You gonna come with us.”

Dutch forced a smile. “I can’t say I know what you’re talkin’ about, friend.”

“There’s a pretty price on your head, boy,” the leader said. “And I ain’t never walked away from pay like that. So why don’t you drop the pistol, and come quiet like?”

Dutch thought about it. Decided over his dead body. “Name’s Callahan. I don’t know any de Lindes.”

“Cut the bull.” The leader gestured and the other two stepped up closer. “I’m happy to just take you, but I reckon there’s a price on this one too.” He nodded towards Hosea. “Come quiet, and he goes free, I swear.”

Hosea was watching him closely, but with the others watchin’ him back from the trees, he wasn’t givin’ anything away.

And Dutch didn’t have a plan.

If they left Hosea be, then he’d come after him.

He didn’t like it but it was the facts. If he surrendered, and Hosea was safe, then Hosea would come for him.

But there was no telling if this bounty hunter would keep his word.

If it were just him, he’d risk it. But with a gun on Hosea’s back, he oughta be a bit smarter.

He was still thinking when the shot came out of the trees.

The leader’s chest exploded out and he dropped like a stone. It was almost instinct that had Dutch unloading on the other two, before they’d even stopped gaping at their fallen comrade.

And in a second, the danger had passed. And three dead men were staining their campsite red.

Hosea breathed out sharply. “I feel I oughta be offended that no one seems to recognise me.”

Dutch laughed, at least partly out of relief.

There was a stomping of boots through the leaves. “I told you I shot a man before!”

The kid emerged from the treeline, revolver in hand.

“That you did,” Dutch laughed, unable to quite believe their luck, “and now you killed one.”

The kid looked faintly pleased, tucking the gun back into his waistband.

Hosea was pushing himself to his feet. “I suppose this means you decided to stay?”

The kid was frowning. “I said so last night, didn’t I?”

He said it like it was obvious. He’d given his word so of course it was true. Like he couldn’t understand why his missing person that morning would’ve been any cause to think different.

Dutch definitely liked this kid.

“Well then, Arthur Morgan,” Dutch spread his arms wide, “welcome to the van der Linde gang.”

He heard Hosea snort behind him. “That what we’re callin’ it, huh?”

Dutch ignored him, in favour of fishing his wallet out of his pocket. He flicked through and pulled out a third. He pressed it into Arthur’s hand.

He kept a grip of the kid’s hand even after he’d accepted the money. Squeezed tight.

“Now, it ain’t the fifty that we lost you, but it’s what we got. And we share it. Always.”

Arthur looked at him, and then a faint smile passed across his face. “Yes, Mr van der Linde.”

Dutch grinned back. “Good boy.”

And they shook on it, like they were good city boys after all.

Yeah, Dutch liked this kid.

Hosea, behind them, laughed suddenly. “Well, it’s a touchin’ moment, fellas. But do you fancy handin’ over my third there as well, Dutch?”

Dutch laughed as well.

With two brothers at his sides, he span around. “Sure thing, old man. Come ‘ere!”


End file.
